I Never Wanted This
by KathrynHaggleman
Summary: Takes place during HBP. Draco doesn't want to kill the headmaster. Instead, he decides to try and help bring down the Dark Lord, enlisting in the help of our favourite know-it-all. They get closer as they work together and romance ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, just the plot. Furthermore, I am not making any money by writing this story.  
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><p>DPOV<p>

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the screams. I didn't know who the man was, only that he had failed the Dark Lord in some way and that the man was being punished for it. The man was begging: for mercy, for death, anything to stop the pain. My father stood next to me, watching this torture with cold eyes, completely unfazed by the man's anguished cries and his master's cruel laugh.

I knew that someday I would be in that man's place. The Dark Lord was too quick to anger to be happy with anyone for long. Voldemort ended the curse and the screams were replaced with whimpers.

"Draco." My eyes snapped open at my master's call. I stepped out of my place in line to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet, just a few feet away from the tortured man, still writhing from the after effects of the curse.

"Yes, my Lord?" I prayed he didn't hear the fear in my voice. I took a deep breath and focused my thoughts. My aunt Bellatrix taught me Occlumency this past summer so I could keep Dumbledore out of my head. If she hadn't, the Dark Lord would have noticed that I no longer believe the ideals that had been beaten into me since childhood. He would have discovered that I am sickened by his displays of power and that I detest him and all that he stands for. I have grown up a lot these past few months. I would have been killed for my traitorous thoughts, if Voldemort had read them. Now when he searches my mind, he sees only thoughts of hatred toward muggleborns and those who accept them.

"Draco," he said again, "Do you think Jugson deserved to be punished?"

Jugson. I looked over at the man. He was still lying on the floor, apparently unable to move. The room was silent but for Jugson's laboured breathing and my own pounding heart.

"Anyone who fails you deserves to be punished, my Lord" I said, hating myself.

"Remember those words, boy. I have a job for you, and you had best not fail." He looked pointedly at Jugson.

"I won't fail you, my Lord." My mind was racing. I thought of the tasks he had given to others in the past, trying to mentally prepare myself. But nothing could prepare me for the words I heard next.

"You are to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Those words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of me. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't even breathe. The room erupted.

"My Lord," came my father's pleading voice, "He's just a boy! I couldn't ev-"

"Crucio." My father fell to the ground, screaming in pain.

"Master," Aunt Bella was speaking now, "Surely you should have someone better suited do the job; someone who stands a chance. Severus, perhaps? He is in the perfect position given his relationship with the wizard…"

The serpentine wizard lifted the curse from my father and turned his attention towards my aunt. "Do you question my judgement?" He asked, his voice deadly.

"Never, my Lord!"

"Good. Draco will kill Dumbledore by the end of this year. I suggest you help the boy. If he fails, he will suffer dearly. Now out of my sight! All of you!"

I scrambled up from my place at the Dark Lord's feet and ran over to my father to help him out of the room.

"Draco," The Dark Lord called again. I turned, still holding up my father. "You will not fail me." His words weren't a display of his trust in my ability. They were a threat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, just the plot. Furthermore, I am not making any money by writing this story.**

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><p>HPOV<p>

I was stabbing at my eggs when the owl post arrived. _The Daily Prophet_ and a letter landed in front of me, knocking over my juice and spilling it onto my lap.

'So it was going to be one of _those_ days,' I thought to myself. I scourgified my robes and ignored the laughs of my neighbours. I was about to turn and tell them to sod of when their laughs died abruptly. My eye caught the front page of the paper and I understood why.

A large photo depicted Hogsmeade, the wizarding town nearest the school, burning. The residents of the town were trying to fight off the Death Eaters attacking them, but it looked like a losing battle. Curses were flying from one side to the other, and the many lay in the streets, injured or dead. The Dark Mark burned brightly in the night sky of the photograph.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, who was reading over my shoulder. I continued to read the article.

_ "Hogsmeade, still reeling from the devastating attack that occurred not two months ago, has once again been caught off guard by Death Eaters. The small but popular town was only just starting to get back on its feet, the popular sweets shop, Honeydukes, having reopened just yesterday. The attack began at around ten last night when many of the residents were inside getting ready for bed. No one thought that the town would be once again struck by disaster so soon. The attack was clearly a message to remind us all that no one is safe during these dark times. The number of casualties is less then that of the last attack, but the physical damage is far worse. It will take weeks to clean up and months to repair this time around. Like last time, not a single Death Eater was caught. Despite this, the Minister of Magic still refuses to station aurors in the twice attacked town or in the nearby school something that is the cause of outrage for many witches and wizards…"_

The Great Hall was abuzz with the chattering of nervous students. The attack was too close to the school for anyone's comfort.

"Look at the teachers," said Harry. I turned my attention to the Head Table. Most of their expressions mirrored that of the students. "They all look frightened or nervous at the very least. All of them, that is, but Snape."

"Harry…" I said. It was true that Professor Snape didn't seem to be as concerned as the rest of the teachers, but I did not feel like hearing Harry's suspicion that the professor is a Death Eater. The man has done nothing but help us when we needed it, and if Professor Dumbledore trusts him, I think we all should too.

I passed the newspaper to Ron to read and opened the letter, hoping it contained something a bit more cheerful than what I just read. It was from my mum and dad. They wanted to say hi and ask if I have gotten myself all settled in yet. School resumed just four days ago. They also had a bit of news from home. I wrote them a quick note back telling them that I'm well and that things were great and that I miss them very much already. Then I sent it off with the owl that had been picking at my toast. Once again I was glad that my parents didn't receive _The Daily Prophet_. They would be worried sick if they knew what was really going on in the wizarding world. I never lied to them, but I definitely did not tell them about the recent attacks around the world. If they didn't think that I was safe, I would be on the first train back home

"We have potions with Slytherin today," Harry complained.

"Could be worse," Said Ron, "Snape could still be the teacher."

"Better potions then Defence Against the Dark Arts. Especially if I'm right about him being a Death Ea-"

"Harry, for the hundredth time, you have no proof. You can't just go around accusing people of something like that. Especially not teachers! Now come one or we'll be late for potions," I said, gathering my things. I love those boys, I really do, but sometimes I feel like they just go looking for trouble.

DPOV

Slughorn was at the front of the room going on about beetle legs and how to use them properly in a potion. I wasn't listening. How could I be expected to focus on my schoolwork at a time like this? Why would I spend my time thinking about beetle legs when I'm being forced to kill a man that I like and respect? Does my father really think that I'll be able to keep up my grades while, at the same time, I'm trying to come up with a way to kill the one man even Lord Voldemort himself fears?

I didn't want to do it. I didn't even think I would be _able_ to do it. Someone was sure to stop me, or Dumbledore would kill me off when I tried to do this job that I had been given.

I considered going to somebody, asking them for help. Maybe the aurors, or Dumbledore himself. But I knew I couldn't do it. Voldemort would kill me. Even if the aurors tried to protect me I couldn't. The Dark Lord would still be able to hurt my family. People would get hurt no matter what I did. So which was the lesser of the two evils?

If I succeeded in killing the headmaster, I might be taking away the world's only hope at stopping this madman. And I did want him stopped. I have learned a lot recently. It was only after getting the Dark Mark that I realised how truly stupid my ideas of blood purity were.

Professor Slughorn asked the class a question. Only one hand shot up: Hermione Granger. Seeing that no one else knew the answer, the professor called on her. Her answer made her sound like she had swallowed the textbook before coming to class.

Granger. She was a muggleborn, and yet she was always the first to master a new charm or curse or potion. She could probably beat anybody her age in a duel so long as they stuck by the rules, and she is the only reason her two dunderhead friends are able to pass any of their classes. She's the brightest witch Hogwarts has ever seen, her test scores surpassing that of masters. She could do anything with her life, after she graduates, because she so damn good at pretty much everything she tries. 'Except flying,' I thought to myself, holding back a smirk. But joking beside, the girl is brilliant.

And she's not the only muggleborn who has become a successful witch or wizard. Newt Scamander, famous for his study on Hippogriffs and author of one of our textbooks hadn't even heard of a Peruvian vipertooth dragon prior to receiving his letter from Hogwarts. And Glynnis Griffiths of the Holyhead harpies is widely renowned as the best seeker to ever play Quidditch despite her muggle heritage.

It shames me to think that I was ever so closed minded as to think that someone's bloodline determined the greatness of a wizard when there was so much evidence to prove the contrary. Now I know that there is more to who a person is than their ancestry. But now it is too late. I took the Dark Mark. I am forever bound to Lord Voldemort. I will be forced to watch and participate in the torture and killing of innocent people until the day I die because of my own stupidity and immaturity. Even if I were to disobey, the people I care about and I would be tortured and killed. All because I didn't figure it out sooner.

I knew that I would be sent to Azkaban if Voldemort was defeated. The fact that I didn't want to do the things I've done doesn't change the fact that I did them. Even still, I wanted the side of the light to win. Just because I can't have a future didn't mean that someone like Granger shouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, just the plot. Furthermore, I am not making any money by writing this story.**

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><p>HPOV<p>

"We've got it this year," Harry said confidently. "This is the best team Gryffindor has ever seen. As long as we work hard, that Quidditch cup is ours. Our first match is Hufflepuff, but we shouldn't underestimate them. They got a new centre chaser this year. I have seen him, and he is _fast_."

"Not as fast as our keeper," Said Dean, smacking Ron on the back.

Harry laughed. "That may be true, but we still have a lot of work to do. Now, I was going over some of our plays from last year and I really think we need to…"

I tried to ignore the team meeting that was going on next to me, but they were too loud. The whole common room was too loud. It was a Sunday, so we didn't have any classes. On top of that, it was raining, so everyone was stuck indoors, and no one wanted to be caught out in the halls, lest they be blamed for tracking mud in the school by Filtch. I tried again to turn my attention to the textbook in my lap, but I ended up only being able to read the same sentence that I had been reading for the last half hour before their Quidditch jargon filled my head again. I had an arithmancy test in two days, and I really needed to study for it. I gathered my bag and books and headed for the peace and quiet of the library.

I hadn't been studying for long when my stomach began to grumble. Nothing, it seemed, would allow me to get any work done today. I tried to ignore it, but I just couldn't focus. I closed my books once again and headed off, this time in the direction of the kitchens, thinking that I would go back to studying after getting some food. The house elves haven't entirely forgiven me for the whole S.P.E.W thing, but they'll still let me sneak some snacks out of the kitchens every now and then. I suspect I have Dobby to thank for that. They still refuse to clean my rooms though.

After getting myself a Pumpkin Pastry, I was going to head back to the common room. My plans of studying had been given up on for now and instead I decided to go see what Ron and Harry were up to. Something stopped me, however.

A head of blonde hair walked quickly around the corner. Something about him just screamed that he didn't want to been seen. I still don't know why I did it, but, thinking that Ron and Harry had really been bad influences on me, I cast a disillusionment charm on myself and followed him. I made sure to stay well behind him, so as not to get caught. I don't know how I would have explained myself to him if he did notice me sneaking around. I didn't know myself, what exactly made me follow him.

I followed him down two corridors, up a flight of stairs, and down another corridor before I lost him. I was so sure that I had seen him turn this way, but the corridor ended with a dead end. I supposed that I had just made a wrong turn or that he had gone into a classroom and I hadn't noticed. Unsure of what else I could possibly do, I turned around and headed back the way I had come.

When I got back to the common room, I saw that the Quidditch meeting had ended and Harry and Ron had begun to play Wizard's chess.

"Hiya, Hermione. Where have you been all day?" asked Harry after I had taken a seat next to them.

"The library," I winced as Ron's knight brutally smashed Harry's poorly placed Queen. The game ended soon after that. Harry lost spectacularly. I watched them play a few more games, and even played one myself (I lost very badly as Harry's pieces wouldn't do as I told them.) before we headed to the Great Hall for supper.

About halfway through the meal, I felt someone looking at me. I glanced around the hall, and sure enough, Malfoy was starring at me. We both looked away quickly. 'He knows I followed him today,' I thought to myself, feeling a bit paranoid.

All thoughts of Malfoy were quickly pushed from my mind, however, when a letter landed on Harry's empty plate. I didn't see where it had come from, and by the bewildered look on Harry's face, he didn't either. He snatched it from his plate quickly and read it under the table.

"What does it say?" I whispered to him.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see me in his office tonight at ten."

"What did you do, mate?" came Ron's voice from Harry's other side.

"I don't know." He looked nervous.

It wasn't until I was getting ready for bed that night and saw my old Dumbledore's Army Galleon (which I keep buried in a drawer under all of my pyjamas, just in case we ever need them again) that I realised where Malfoy had gone that afternoon. I had been so focused on following him without getting caught, that I hadn't been paying attention to _where we were_. Malfoy had gone to the Room of Requirement. But for what?

DPOV

We're only a week into the school year, but I can't help but feel that time is running out. Mother sent me a letter today. It seems that father tried pleading with the Dark Lord, begging him to assign someone else to this horrible task. He was punished severely; cursed within an inch of his life. He doesn't think that I can do it, and frankly, I don't either. It looks like there is no way out of this.

I have some ideas for how to complete my task. I doubt any of them would really work, but that's not my problem right now. I'm not yet sure if I even want to go through with it. Surely there is some other option? There has to be another way. A way that doesn't end badly for me and those I care about. Time is ticking though. I know I must act soon.

Something exploded on the other side of the common room, shocking me out of my revere. The first years over there were laughing at the misfortune of one of their classmates who had apparently messed up some spell pretty badly. He didn't seem too injured, so I turned my attention back to the fire. I was too restless to sit for long though, so I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. It was still raining, so I thought I would just walk around the school a bit. There's another hour before curfew.

I hadn't even made it out of the dungeons before my walk came to an end. As I rounded the corner, my godfather stepped out of the shadows in that irritating way of his and grabbed my shoulder.

"My office," he said. He then proceeded to half drag me there.

He pulled me into his office, then locked and warded the doors behind me. We stared at each other for a moment.

"Do you know what you're going to do yet?" the man wasted no time.

"It's only been a week. I'm working on it," I tried not to sound petulant.

"Have you put any thought into it at all?" It looks like I had failed. He was starting to raise his voice.

"I don't even know where to start!"  
>"Well, you had better figure it out! You're not going to like the repercussions should you fail, boy."<p>

"How am I supposed to succeed? He game me an impossible task! Even he couldn't beat Dumbledore in a duel, so how can I? And I hardly think that someone like Dumbledore can be easily poisoned or cursed by an object given to him under the guise of a present! So what options are left? If one failed attempt on his life is traced back to me, I'm screwed! One slip up and I'm dead!"

"Then you better not slip up."

"Great advice…"

"Watch your tone!" he warned. "You're going to have to be a bit more creative that poisoning his Pumpkin Juice if you're going to succeed."

"Why do you even care, Severus?"

"You're mother…asked that I assist you-"

"I don't need your assistance!" I spat.

"Stop behaving like a child! You clearly have no idea how to go about planning and committing a murder! Do you have any ideas? Have you even thought about this?"

"I haven't done anything but think about this!" I took a deep breath. "I have some ideas, but they're all doomed to failure. There's either no way I can pull it off, or Dumbledore will see right through it."

Snape sighed. "No one is allowed to help you plan. The Dark Lord forbids it. We are, however, allowed to help put your plan into action, so long as you are the one who actually kills Dumbledore. That is not to say that one of us isn't allowed to…step in should the opportunity arise and you prove yourself to be incapable. If it comes to that, you can guarantee your death by the Dark Lord's hand. I'll do what I can to help you, Draco, but I cannot do much. Come to me when you have something that I can work with.

"Why is he doing this to me?" I asked, exhausted.

"He's testing you. I suggest you get a plan in motion, and soon."

I left Snape's office feeling sick. My talk with him had done nothing to answer any of my questions. I still didn't know if I was going to kill the man, let alone how to go about it. Snape was right about one thing though. I needed a plan.


End file.
